


In Case It Rains

by bitnari



Series: In Case It Rains [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: DJ/Musician Nino, F/M, Fashion Intern Marinette, Former Model Now Marketing Intern Adrien, Post-College AU, Reporter Alya, more tags as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-08-20 15:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20230084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitnari/pseuds/bitnari
Summary: Every moment in life is fleeting, and yet every moment in life is precious. We laugh, we cry, we expect things and then get disappointed. Life is like this -- our hearts flutter and then they dull, but they continue to beat. And with the rise of the sun and the fall of the moon, it all happens again. Every day passes just like the last, but like rain, sometimes it all pours down from above, only to disappear again.A fic about our main cast finding their place in the world as they take their first steps into adult life. Adult struggles, nostalgia, romance, but presented in (hopefully) a light-hearted comedic way. It's a rom-com in the end.Rating is tentative -- we'll see what happens.





	1. In Case of Delay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we face delays, but that's okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Few Things To Remember:  
\- Being an adult is hard.  
\- Time flies too fast.  
\- Never miss a train on your morning commute.  
\- Life is unpredictable.  
My tumblr is meowci-beaucoup.tumblr.com for those that may want to send in asks, reactions, or what-not. A bit of self-promo (sorry).

"The existential crisis of adulthood comes in waves. First, the realization of responsibility: the crushing knowledge that in four years, after college, you're all alone and bound to set off into the world. Second, the agony of rejection: trying your hardest to achieve your goals only to be burdened by your past mistakes. And third, the devastation of your self-esteem: bit by bit your self-concept itself flattens until it becomes nothing, with every ounce of your human soul pulverized by the veneer of composure that we all hide under. Every breath and every moment is tinged with sorrow, and loneliness creeps in while you watch Netflix in your dingy apartment's living room alo--"

"A--Alya!! This was great, and I’m glad we relate, but I'm not sure if your new article can really help me right now." Marinette closed her eyes and massaged her temples, trying to soothe the headache that she felt rising up from inside her skull. She thought that this would be her dream job, but after interning at Gabriel Agreste's fashion company for a month, she could feel her patience wearing thin. Every day was another reminder of her inability while the corporate ladder stood tall, daring her to climb. She recalled that just the other day Manager Rey put her on “drinks duty,” when she bussed drinks to her colleagues until she wanted to fling the coffee pot out the window in frustration. She had designs to finalize, but it always seemed like she was stuck in a constant loop of appeasing the wants of her superiors before being able to actually do the work she was supposed to do. Needless to say, she missed her deadline, and Manager Rey was breathing down her back again for not finishing on time.

“It’s my fault anyways, I shouldn’t have missed my deadline even if I had extra work shoved on me.”

"You need to chill, girl. Relax! It's only your first month." Alya put away her phone and the article with it. "Everyone messes up in the beginning, and then they get better, and then you'll take Gabriel Agreste's seat by next year."

"Not with Manager Rey breathing down my back every chance he gets. It’s almost like he has it out for me, every time I sit down to do something for the company, he makes me fill up his mug with more coffee or puts a broom up to my face to make me clean." Marinette anxiously began to stir her latte, ruining the milk foam art in the process. The slice of strawberry roll cake she ordered was left untouched, sitting in open air while Marinette spewed all of her troubles on her friend Alya. Perceptive to all of this, Alya sighed and took a sip of her tea. She had to admit that her friend wasn’t exactly the best at standing up for herself, especially within the corporate hierarchy. Sure, Marinette wasn’t a girl who’d blindly follow anyone, but she wasn’t one who made waves either. She knew that as much as anyone. Still, she had to at least try.

“_ A woman’s lot is to suffer. _” Alya shrugged, quoting a line from a book she recently finished. “They say sexism’s dead in the workplace, but ask any reporter and she’ll give you the scoop on all the shit she goes through to make men treat her like any decent human being.”

“But I don’t think it’s that simple, Alya. He doesn’t treat any of the other girls like this.” Marinette shook her head. “Do you think it’s something I might've done?”

“And what would you have done?”

“I don’t know…” Marinette gave herself some time to think as her mind raced for answers before cringing once it came to her. “There was that one time I tried sipping on my bubble tea, but I only covered half of the straw with my mouth before sucking, and it sprayed all over him.”

Alya laughed at her friend’s clumsiness, you can always trust Marinette to find the most unique ways to cause a mess. Tears were welling up in her eyes as her friend stared back at her embarrassed, a blush rising up on her face. “Th-- That. Is. _ Hilarious. _ Imagine his face just getting smacked with a gush of oolong milk tea.”

Marinette gave herself a chance to smile. “It was actually Okinawan fresh milk, and I don't have to imagine, I was there to witness it.” She remembered how his mouth gaped open while his eyes rapidly blinked in surprise. Of course, being Manager Rey, he had a spare shirt and tie inside his cabinet, but just thinking about the pure horror of not just spilling, but spraying her boss with her milk tea brought her chills. It wasn’t just embarrassing. With someone like him, she was lucky to come out of it with just a warning and a ban from bringing any drinks into the office. She’d seen others get fired on-the-spot. 

“I still don’t know why I didn’t get fired.”

“Well, don’t you have _ Monsieur _ Agreste’s _ blessing _? You’re practically immune.” Alya shrugged, “He can’t touch you, but I guess he’s gonna give you a hard time instead.”

It was true that Marinette got into this internship in the first place, not with an application, but by being hand-picked by Gabriel Agreste himself. Gabriel had been keeping an eye on Marinette since when she won his hat design contest in middle school, and by the time she had graduated from college, he had already acquired her resume and portfolio through his various sources. In some ways, being watched by Gabriel was a blessing, succeed and you’re practically guaranteed at least an entry-level position, which was already hard enough to get, but fail and face the consequential disappointment that spreads out into the industry with Gabriel at the root. Everyone will know that you weren’t enough to impress him, and rival companies will only settle for designers who could potentially beat the Papillon brand in the coming future. They call him the octopus, with his tentacles stretching across all of Europe and pushing their way into the United States and even Japan. If you fail, everyone will know. If you succeed, everyone will know. 

Even worse than being rejected from the application process, however, is getting fired while interning under his company. This industry was all about _ survival _ and _ endurance _ . Once you get killed, you’re dead. _ Qui n’avance pas, recule. Who does not move forward, recedes _, and Marinette could feel herself receding into her shell with each passing day, unable to bear the immense pressure that her department manager was forcing on her at every moment. 

“Sometimes I wonder if it's a blessing or a curse.” Marinette anxiously took a sip of her latte. “Remember what people call me at work?”

“Parachute?” Alya laughed, “I still think that’s ridiculous.”

“Doesn’t make it not real.”

She was a “parachute” descending into the industry without the grit and persistence of her peers. People say that she got in through connections by being friends with Gabriel Agreste’s son, Adrien, in school, but Marinette knew in her heart that she’d worked just as hard, if not harder than the others to get to her position. She had the credentials, but no recognition, except from of course, Gabriel Agreste himself, which didn’t exactly help in clearing her case. _ Monsieur _ Agreste's "blessing" was a double-edged sword: protection from immediate disposal but the entire world watching your every move. Marinette was sure that Manager Rey hated her because of Gabriel's favoritism towards her. He hated being surpassed by his subordinates.

“I know as much as anyone else that _ you worked your ass off to get into this job _ , and you got those connections by being just _ that good _.” Alya crossed her arms. “You know people say that about me too. People’ll tear you down no matter what as long as you’re better than them.”

“But am I even better than them? I honestly don’t think that I stack up with the rest of my co-workers, they usually have a few more years on me, and I’m so inadequate around them. All I do is spill drinks and miss deadlines.”

“Girl, if you don’t think you’re better than them,” Alya closed her eyes, turned away, and made a swiping motion with her hand, “then what’s the point? Why don’t you just resign? Swipe left and move on. There are loads of fashion companies in Paris that’ll take _ dropouts _ from Papillon.”

“What?!” Marinette threw her hands onto the table, the poor roll cake to her side shuddered in fear, and some heads turned towards her from the noise. She lowered her voice to a forced whisper and continued. “Are you _ crazy _ , Alya? _ I’ve worked my ass off for this _! I’m not going to let this internship slide."

Alya smirked in satisfaction at predicting her friend’s reaction. “Now _ that’s _ the spirit. But it looks like you’re going to have to get some thick skin, girl.” She shrugged and peered over at Marinette who began to deflate like a balloon. Shoulders slumping over and eyes looking downward, Marinette really needed to work on controlling her expressions. She looked like a kicked puppy, a kicked puppy who was also lonely and insecure about her place in the world. “I hate to be the one to say it, but who else is going to tell you but me?

“I guess so.” Marinette managed a small smile and shook her head to clear the negativity swirling around. “Thanks Alya, you’re my voice of reason.”

“You bet I am!” She lifted her head and drank in the praise for a moment before moving onto the next topic of conversation. Her expression suddenly turned grave. “Now, I need to show you something.” 

“What is i--” Alya practically pressed her phone up against her friend’s face. The screen displayed an article: 

* * *

** _Trailblazing Model and Fashion Prodigy’s Son, Adrien Agreste, Resigns_ **

(Saturday, June 23rd) At 1:24 PM, this afternoon, Adrien Agreste (22), the son of Papillon's CEO Gabriel Agreste, has announced that he will step down from his long-held position as the face of the Papillon brand. The decision comes in the wake of Agreste's recent graduation from Sorbonne University, where he earned a Bachelor's in History and Media. Sources suggest that after his resignation, he intends to return to "civilian life," possibly even working in the lower rungs of his father's company "in order to become a normal person."

Agreste states that he would "rather resign and work from the bottom up than inherit a position through [his] father's achievements." Gabriel Agreste seems to have not taken the news well, although he is understanding of his son's decisions.

"I could sense Adrien's discontent with his job," he said to a reporter before refusing to speak more on the matter, "He never liked being a model, but now he'll understand how hard it is to live out there in the _ real world _."

When prompted about his father's disapproval of his resignation, Agreste replied, "My father has always disapproved of what I want to do with my life. He has to understand that I want something else besides fame and money."

Will Adrien ever return to the fashion world? _Sign up for our subscription to hear the latest and greatest news on the Web!_

* * *

Marinette dropped the phone and put both hands on her face. She shook her head in disbelief and let out a soft scream. The smile, the perfectly styled blonde hair, the green eyes that stared back at her through the screen of Alya’s phone. _ That was him _. Her eternal crush grew into France’s heartthrob; everyone and anyone either wanted to be with Adrien Agreste or be Adrien Agreste. The public loved Adrien: he was hot in a civilian-looking way, not in a model way. Models have pointed features, their bodies in perfect proportion, and they hold themselves with a certain amount of indifference to the world around them, but Adrien was different. Adrien was soft, yet well-crafted. His smile could bring light to a rainy day, and his interviews warmed the hearts of every Parisian. He was sunshine-incarnate. He was everyone’s son. Everyone’s handsome, well-mannered, caring, bright, and perfect son. Marinette stopped following all of the news surrounding her old friend ever since they became close friends; it had felt weird to continue stalking someone she ended up meeting every day. But, she hadn’t realized that even after all of these years, a blush could come to her face when she saw him, and the surprise from the news of his retirement didn’t help either.

Marinette shakily read aloud, “He intends to _return to ‘civilian life,’ _possibly even working in the lower rungs of his father's company _‘in order to become a normal person’_??” She breathed. “Alya, he’s going to be _ working _ with _ me _?” 

“It looks like it, but who knows? He might not even be put near your department, you might never see him… Unless you’d want to, of course? I bet you could probably reach ou--”

"N--n--nn-no!” Marinette shook her hands in front of her before pausing, “Wait, no. I _ do _ want to meet him, but I mean, _ not like that _ , y’know,... it’s been so long! I should catch up with him.” She could feel the sweat forming on her brow. “In fact, w-- we should _ all _ meet up. You, me, Nino, and A--Adrien!” She held up four fingers and smiled.

Alya raised an eyebrow. "You know, they say that old habits die hard, but this crush of yours sure isn't stopp--"

"_ C-crush!? Who said I have a crush!? I don't have a crush? _"

"Uh huh." Alya smirked and took back her phone, scrolling through some articles before landing on the one she was looking for. "Here. Check this one out, just read the headline."

"T--The F-face of th-the Ag--Agreste Brand in Yo-Your Office Cubicle???"

Alya played up her nonchalant attitude towards all of this for the comedic effect. "Yup." She took back the phone and continued to scroll, "Looks like he'll be working as an intern in the marketing department.” She looked up at Marinette. “Hey, isn’t that _ your _ department?”

Marinette went back to internally screaming, "A-Alya, does that mean?"

"What?” She smiled. “That you'll have to continue to burn in the fire of your middle school crush that you never quite got rid of even after eight years?"

Marinette took out her phone and frantically began to scroll.

"That you might run into him every day from now on? Witnessing Rey kissing up to him like any department manager would to the son of his boss?"

Marinette paused on Adrien's profile on her Instagram, now scrolling through the memories of all of his old posts. She couldn't believe that it had been four years since she'd seen him. It never occurred to her that their friendship was bound mostly (possibly only) to school. They both went to college in Paris, and sure studies were hard, but if they had wanted to, they surely could have met up at least once in the past four years. She couldn’t believe how fast time had passed, and right now, she wanted it to stop. She couldn’t bear the thought of walking into work on Monday to see him there.

"Earth to Marinette?? Are you there?"

She blinked and snapped back to reality. "Yeahyeahyeah I'm fine! J-Just got kinda surprised was all." She let out a weak laugh, but her smile looked like she was being held at gunpoint. She was still scrolling.

Alya suddenly felt bad, maybe her teasing went too far. She didn't realize that her friend still bred feelings for Adrien. So much time had passed that she expected it all to be a joke by now, but she supposed that she would've slapped someone if they made a joke about her and Nino. They were still together even after all of these years, and sometimes she wondered how they managed to keep it up even with everything going on, but the loyalty they had to each other only grew stronger the longer they spent with each other. Maybe Marinette was the same, even if she never did date Adrien.

"So you still like him, huh?"

"_ Me _ ?!” The fakest of fake laughs graced the air of the cafe as her whole face began to turn bright red. “ _ No!! Me? Never! _” In her crazed laughter, she made eye contact with Alya to see if she was buying it. _She wasn’t_. Marinette closed her eyes tight and sighed. She always hated admitting these things. “Y--Yeah, I guess I still like him.”

"Well, I'm sure he'd want to see you. It’s been a long time y’know. You two might have never gotten together, but you were close." Alya turned her phone towards Marinette, on it was an old picture that they all took in their last days in high school. The four friends all had their arms around each other's shoulders. It was the day that they all passed their final examinations and felt freer than ever, and Marinette could remember it crystal-clear, as if it were yesterday. 

"You and Nino deliberately put me and Adrien in the center." She smiled. "And my mind was spinning while Adrien casually put his arm around my shoulder."

"And then he called you a 'good friend' again, and you wanted to strangle him." She could barely hold in her laugh as she swiped to the next image of Marinette making a scrunched expression of annoyance.

"But it means a lot to me… his friendship… even if it drives me _ insane _." She managed to laugh with her friend.

"And it'll mean a lot to him too." Alya pushed the roll cake towards Marinette, it needed to get eaten. "If he's going to start working in the office, then he's going to need a friend that treats him like a friend. Not _ Monsieur Agreste's _ precious son."

"Y--You’re right," Marinette replied while picking up her fork, pushing the roll cake back a little to offer some to her friend.

"I know I am." Alya winked and picked up a fork. She took a bite of roll cake and sighed in bliss. "This cafe always has the best desserts."

Marinette took a bite, feeling the spongy texture of the cake mix with the softness of the cream, her favorite strawberries blending together with the milk to bring back a sense of sweetness that she remembered from her past. She never thought that she'd miss high school until now. But she knew that with sour memories came sweet reflections, and she wished for a future where she could touch those memories again.

Her crush on Adrien Agreste hadn't changed, but she relished the bubbly feeling in her chest that rose up when she imagined seeing him again. 

* * *

Mondays were always the worst, but today was different, today was the day that Adrien would enter as an intern for Papillon. Marinette jumped out of bed without an alarm blaring into her ears to wake up. After some thorough research on which department Adrien would be working in, she found that multiple articles confirmed that he would work for the marketing department. She imagined that with his background, he’d be working on maintaining and increasing sales while also managing advertisements and scheduling promotional events. His background of media development would give him a solid foundation to base his work on, and his experience with photoshoots and television broadcasts would give him an upper-hand in planning them.

Within the marketing department, Marinette worked more on coloring, rendering designs, and managing paperwork to be sent up to her superiors, who then sent back her designs with either more draft material or adjustments. She was also on the design team of the advertisement sector, where she rejoiced in the idea of creating her own designs to be put out as promotional material. Her work was grounded on design, but it was determined that it would be best for her to work in the marketing department to gain some experience in the more administrative tasks of running a design company, which, in other words, gave Manager Rey the excuse to unload more work on her. Often, she would juggle between her tasks, hoping for the best that they would somehow complete themselves, and then she would come home and complete tasks she could do remotely. But, the most exciting part of her work was seeing the drafts and swatches of real fashion designers, and every time she received another sketch to render, she felt a little more complete.

Marinette quickly put on some clothes before looking in the mirror, wondering if she should "dress up" for the occasion, despite knowing that she'd change into her uniform once she got to the office. She threw her clothes off and trampled into her closet, hoping to find a better outfit. _ The pink top with the white pants and a watch for accessory? There's that infinity scarf she wanted to try on too, but it was summer, so it would be too hot, then maybe the pink top wouldn't work either since it was long-sleeved. But would it really matter if she was only wearing it to and from the office? Okay, okay, then what about a skirt? Or shorts? Nonono. _ After going through her entire closet, she stood in defeat, eventually settling on a white blouse and denim jeans, black flats and a gold bracelet to accessorize. The sun was strong, so she also brought along her circular sunglasses just in case. She liked the chic look these days, neutral tones and simple accessories, natural make-up and one colored accessory. _ Sharp _ was the word she wanted to see when she looked at herself.

"Alright Tikki, what about this one?" She looked in the mirror, fiddling with her hair as she wondered what to do with it. 

"You look great Marinette!" The kwami flew around her and then made eye contact with Marinette through their reflections in the mirror. "It's a big day today, like every day! But today you're meeting someone _ special _."

Marinette laughed, "Don't tease me. It's been years!"

"And nothing's changed~"

She ignored Tikki and gave up on doing anything to her hair. She figured that shoulder-length hair was in trend anyways. Letting out a deep breath, she got her bag and left her room. Thankfully, the company building wasn’t too far from her home, just a subway ride away, so she was staying with her parents. She was glad that she didn’t have to worry about rent or food, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was being too dependent. She’d determined that once this internship ended, she would move out and find herself an apartment… somewhere. 

After taking a moment to make sure everything was in her bag, she headed downstairs. Her parents were busy opening the store in the morning, so she always woke up to a note in the kitchen set next to a piece of freshly-baked bread for breakfast. Today was different though, a stack of french toast greeted her, lightly dusted with powdered sugar and topped with her favorite fruits. She blinked in surprise and then picked up the note in her mother’s handwriting: 

> “Work your hardest like you always do! Good luck at work! Go get him. <3 
> 
> ~ Mom”

_ Thanks Mom. _She rolled her eyes and smiled as her face flushed red. She looked at her watch before sitting down and beginning her meal, confirming that she had a few moments to eat. In fact, she was early for once. The toast was still warm, and she loved how the savory egg blended so well with the sweetness of the powdered sugar. The fruit was fresh and was a welcome palate cleanser when the creamy butter of the toast started overpowering the flavor. Nothing could come close to the combination of her mom’s cooking and her dad’s baking, and she found herself smiling despite feeling anxious for the day ahead of her. Of course, she couldn’t enjoy this meal alone, so she offered some to Tikki, who happily obliged. After they finished, she left her own note:

> “Good luck with the shop today. I’ll try my best! <3 
> 
> ~ Marinette”

As Marinette began her commute, she imagined that meeting Adrien would first be lead by the compulsory awkward small talk phase of meeting an old friend. The next step would be either they never talk to each other again, or they go through a character arc and get closer than before. She’d seen it enough times in movies to know how it would turn out, and she found herself being caught up in the whirl of thoughts that plagued her daily existence. Everything needed a contingency plan. 

If he_ doesn’t _ talk to her, then she wouldn’t either. No need to pursue. She didn’t want to revert back to her stalker tendencies if he isn’t interested in reconnecting. She would buy ice cream and then sulk in her room afterward, but she would never break in front of everyone. 

If he _ does _talk to her, then she’ll only be friendly at first. There’s no point in pushing it when it’s been so long: act civil and professional so that he knows that you’re committed to your work. Then, after they get more comfortable with each other, she would be more friendly to show that she was committed to their friendship.

Everything had a plan, everything was planned. _ I’m going to be fine _. She told herself as she boarded the subway. 

“Hey!!!”

She stopped moving when she heard the voice of someone all too familiar, and with horror, she backtracked and turned around to see him, Adrien Agreste, waving his hands and running towards her. The doors closed in front of her, she missed the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my inspo for this chapter:  
\- "Pachinko" by Min Jin Lee. Where I got Alya's quote from. It's a very good book.  
\- I really spewed milk tea at Someone Important by only covering half of the straw opening and sucking. It was truly tragic. For me, it was oolong milk tea. If you haven't had milk tea/bubble tea/boba, would highly recommend trying it.  
\- Proust's Madeleine  
\- Aggretsuko (actually inspo for this whole series really)  
\- Various Korean phrases that somehow translated over. (i.e "parachute")  
\- Existential angst for college graduation, you the real one.


	2. In Case of Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes we want to escape, but that’s okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Few Things to Remember:  
\- Moving out is hard for everyone.  
\- Youtube tutorials... are hit-or-miss.  
\- Always leave home a little earlier than you expect. Better to be early than late..... Unless?
> 
> My tumblr is meowci-beaucoup.tumblr.com for those that may want to send in asks, reactions, or what-not. A bit of self-promo (sorry).

The hardest part of the decision wasn't telling his father or seeing the projected disappointment in the still image of his mother's face on his desktop monitor. It wasn't the fans continually badgering him for autographs or the somber looks people gave him on the streets. It wasn't even the media attention. For Adrien, the hardest part was giving up, and even with his newfound freedom, he felt a responsibility for not completing the work that was put on him. He felt like a coward.

It took four years of living alone at university for him to finally decide to quit, but when he pulled the trigger, it felt like it all happened at once. The fear, the anxiety, all melting away in a single moment as his new future opened up in front of him. Adrien still remembered calling his father while he was on a business trip and promptly being told that he had one minute on the phone, so he made it quick. “I quit.” He said.

“What do you mean?” Ten seconds.

“I-I don’t want to model anymore.” Twenty seconds.

“Very well then.” Twenty-five seconds.

Fifteen seconds of pause. And then his father spoke:

“Is that all?” Fifty seconds.

“Y-yes, Father.” Sixty. They said their goodbyes and hung up.

He knew his father could be cold, and he knew from past experience that rejecting his father’s decisions usually led to consequences: stricter schedules, more tutors, less freedom. After the phone call, he sat and wondered what was next. Would his father call back and talk some sense into him? Would Nathalie show up at his door to reprimand him? Would he instead be subject to imprisonment in the Agreste mansion? He dreamed up scenarios in his head before coming to the conclusion after hours of thought that maybe his father had finally given up on him, too. The realization hurt him more than expected.

It was when he was packing his bags late at night that he finally heard a knock at his door. _ There it was. Here we go again. Nathalie’s here to tell me that Father doesn’t like my attitude, that he’ll decide what I do with my time. That I-- _He opened the door. And he felt his heart stop when he saw a glimpse of a familiar white suit. It was his father. His hair was a mess and his tie looked like it was haphazardly put on. A hint of red spread across his face as sweat formed on his brow. He looked like he had just run a marathon.

“Adr-” There was a hint of urgency, but his tone was level.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on a business trip? Why-- How did you get back here?”

“Adrien, are you sure about this?”

He nodded, “...I wouldn’t have called you if I wasn’t.”

Gabriel's eyes scanned the room behind his son, noticing the bags filled with his clothes and belongings, “Are you thinking about moving out as well?”

“Y-yes, Father.”

“And what’s your plan then? What do you want, I can give you anything you need Adrien. Is it that you want more time for yourself? I can arrange to have some photoshoots moved to account fo--”

Adrien shook his head and took a step back, biting the inside of his lip to prepare for what he was about to say. He interrupted and managed to stammer out a little bit louder than intended, “I---I want to be independent.” He took a deep breath. “Father, I’ve graduated from university, and now I need to start my life… I need to… Make decisions for myself and be on my own. Please understand.”

Gabriel looked away from his son and towards the floor instead. He knew this day would come eventually, but why so soon? He raised his voice, “Adrien, being on your own isn’t as comfortable as you might think it to be. The world isn’t forgiving, and you’re going to have to learn to take some responsibility.”

“I know that I have to take responsibility, Father.” His mind was spinning, and he felt like he was about to pass out even as he barked out those words. There was something fulfilling about finally speaking up against his father, but he still felt like he was committing a terrible sin. He felt like he was betraying someone. He looked away too, and added a little softer, “You can’t shield me forever, you know.”

"I'm not trying to _shield _you, I'm doing what needs to be done to keep you _ safe_."

"And keeping me safe has done no good except create a barrier between me and the outside world." His voice was shaking, he could tell, but he had to keep going. "Father, you need to _ let go _." And the immediate regret sank in as he saw his father's expression melt from frustration to sadness.

Gabriel turned back, forlorn at his own son’s words. “I just want what’s best for you. I’m only…” He closed his eyes. “I’m only worried for you.” Beat. “We only have each other.”

Adrien turned his back to his father and shakily inhaled, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes to keep what felt like tears at bay. _ He was right. His father was all he had left. But he couldn’t break down. Not now. _ No matter how much he shook his head, he couldn’t shake the tingling in his nose and the eventual release as he felt tears spill down his cheeks and drop onto the floor. He couldn’t believe that this was what it took for his father to finally bring down his shell after all these years, but those words continued to resound inside of his head, “ _ We only have each other.” _

Gabriel heard sniffling and opened his eyes in surprise, now wondering how he was supposed to both comfort his young adult son while also attempting to recuperate from his own emotional distress. Seeing his son break in that moment from a single statement made him realize how much pressure he must have been under. How he'd locked his son in his room just to keep him safe. How he’d sent his son against his wishes to one of the most prestigious universities in Paris, all "for his own good." How he’d hid movies featuring his wife to shelter Adrien from the pain that he bred inside of himself. Gabriel had been distant, and yet controlling. He wondered if he'd done a good job of raising his son after all. It was time to let go, but it was so hard. Something about his son reminded him of her.

He cleared his throat, shaking off those thoughts for later and shelving them away once more. Gabriel wasn't going to break when his son was already a mess. "Adrien, I came originally with a request."

Adrien unsuccessfully attempted to wipe his face with his sleeve, now wet with tear stains. He couldn't turn around to answer or force his voice to speak. He just nodded. 

"I understand what you wish. I remember what it felt like to be your age, and I feel as if I've been too cautious with how I've raised you." He hated admitting it, but this had to be done. "I know you have already made arrangements for what you will do once you… move out, but it would give me some peace of mind to at least have you at arm's length."

The boy recovered enough to reply, "W-what do you mean?"

"Work as an intern at my company. Although I can't guarantee that you will be treated exactly the same as any other employee, it would give you a chance to… _ experience _ adult life without straying too far." He straightened himself and cleared his throat. "It would make me worry less... I can't have you being recruited by a rival firm." His hand reached for the doorknob. "I promise that I won't bother you from my end. So at least consider it... Please."

He closed the door before his son could answer and briskly walked into his room before allowing his legs to collapse under the weight of the emotions overriding his senses. 

"You made the right decision, Master."

"... I know, Nooroo. I only wish I made it sooner."

* * *

"Nononononono! You cross the wide end _ over _ the narrow end not _ under_.” 

Adrien tentatively followed Plagg’s directions.

“Okay, now that that’s done. You need to throw the wide end around the narrow end.”

“I need to throw?”

“_Throw around_.”

He did it… or so he thought, looping the wide end around the narrow end and bringing it back to its original place. “Now what?”

“So _now_, you see how the tie is around your neck?” Adrien nodded, and Plagg continued, “Put the wide end _ into _ the loop and then pull it _ out_.”

“Like this?” Adrien proceeded to aimlessly push the wide end into the loop and then pull it back out.

“No! Pull it _ through_.” 

“Ohhh, pull it _ through._” He did it. He pulled it through.

“Okay, now we’re halfway there. I better get some cheese by the end of this.”

“Plagg, are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Adrien looked into the mirror, scrunching his eyebrows in confusion at the object hanging limply around his neck. It looked like a noose.

“Trust me, Adrien. I’ve been with enough Chat Noirs throughout the years to know how to tie a tie, I’ve seen it millions of times!” The kwami flew over to hover right next to Adrien’s neck to point at the tie. “See _ this _ loop right here? The smaller one? Now put the end through that loop.”

“W--Which loop??” Adrien truly could not tell which of the three loops he was referring to.

“_This_ one.” Plagg practically stabbed through the green tie with the force of his paw. _You’d think the son of a fashion overlord would have enough sense in him to know how to tie a tie, but maybe he was asking for too much._ _Humans and their formalities._ He never understood why they decided to adopt the custom of tying a piece of fabric around their necks to denote importance. He still remembered the day Louis XIII looked to him and asked, “Plagg, does this red knot not look marvelous with this uniform? It is the _perfect_ accent, perhaps we could even use it for Chat Noir.”

Plagg wholeheartedly disagreed. Everything in his eons-old soul refused to include such a ridiculous piece of human invention in Chat Noir’s costume. To that Louis replied, “What a shame. Well, the men will surely find this fashionable.” Hundreds of years later, he’s subjected to watching this boy strangle himself in the mirror, eventually relinquishing his help to watch a Youtube tutorial instead. _ Thanks Louis. You really did a service for all of us. _ The only real service he did for the world in Plagg's eyes was give birth to Louis XIV. _ Now that was a man he could follow. _ He didn’t even want to think about why Adrien subconsciously wanted a bell on _ his _ costume. Plagg was getting tired of this trend. _ Look at Ladybug! Functional. No belts or ears or bells or loose fabric. _

“I think I did it!” Adrien let go, stared into the mirror, and then proceeded to fiddle with the knot around his neck. _ Why does it look so bad. _ He thought to himself as he lamented not having his stylist with him. His shirt was wrinkled because he didn't know how to use an iron. His tie was very sadly done. He didn’t know if he was supposed to wear black or brown pants. What was sadder than having shabby clothes was having designer clothing that was poorly worn. But something about it he liked.

He slapped some store-bought gel into his hand and then attempted to slather it onto his hair. He didn't know how much he needed, nor did he know exactly how to put it on, but he was determined to imitate his stylist as best he could. _ Good enough. _ He shrugged and gave up. He flashed a smile into the mirror. Crumpled white dress shirt, gel-filled hair, black pants, belt around his waist. This was the image of _ Independence. _ Men's fashion was _ Easy-Peasy _ . _ Why did he even need a stylist in the first place? _

He gave himself some time to admire both his _independent_ _adult_ appearance while thinking about how he managed to score this apartment on his own. With no help from his father, he moved into what was essentially an Airbnb, subleasing the place from an old couple who decided to travel the world for a year before retiring. The apartment was empty, so they decided to make a posting online. Overjoyed that it was Adrien Agreste himself deciding to stay in their home (and emotionally secure that he would probably be able to pay for the rent), they agreed to a yearlong contract with him, even lowering the rent and leaving their furniture behind. 

It was a [studio-size apartment](https://a0.muscache.com/im/pictures/26770859/b87c2523_original.jpg?aki_policy=xx_large) in the heart of Paris, smaller than even his room back home, but well-furnished with a TV, a couch and a bed, a kitchenette, and best of all, an in-house laundry machine. Adrien remembered seeing a [restaurant](https://a0.muscache.com/im/pictures/26681607/26ab617d_original.jpg?aki_policy=xx_large) just downstairs and recalled walking past a bakery a few blocks up the road. The [metro station](https://a0.muscache.com/im/pictures/26681703/0e289d0e_original.jpg?aki_policy=xx_large) was only a ten minute walk away, so he wouldn’t have to worry much about being late to work. It was truly the perfect living situation for him.

He excitedly turned to Plagg, who was now enjoying a piece of camembert on Adrien's bed. His expression turned sour, "Plagg, what did I say about eating on the bed? I don’t want this nice couple to come back home to stinky furniture." 

"If you ask me, the bed isn't what you should be worried about. Have you seen yourself?"

Adrien sighed and looked at the floor, shoulders slumped over in defeat. “Well, I tried my best.”

Seeing his chosen deflated like that made Plagg’s heart ache, and although Adrien was hopeless in a lot of ways, he was a nice kid. Maybe the nicest he's ever had. He rolled his eyes, playing up a nonchalant facade, "Well, you don't look _all_ _that bad_. At least you tried, that's what counts."

Easy to please, he perked up and smiled, "Thanks Plagg." He checked his watch. “Oh no! We gotta go or else we’re gonna be late!” He grabbed his bag, let Plagg fly into his shirt pocket, and then headed out of his apartment.

* * *

While walking to the metro station, Adrien passed by the bakery he thought of earlier on the corner of 12 Rue Gotlib, the _ Boulangerie Patisserie _. Everything looked all too familiar, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had forgotten something very important to him. With Plagg nagging at him that he’d be late to work, Adrien decided to step inside the bakery to pick up some breakfast. A bell rang when he opened the door. 

He was soon greeted by what smelled inexplicably like _ home _ , loaves of bread were stacked in baskets all around the store and pastries were set out to cool. He couldn’t help but smile as he ate everything with his eyes, just imagining how tasty everything must be and relishing in the pleasantly warm and fragrant air. His moment of bliss was interrupted when he heard what sounded like frantic movement in the back, soon a woman came out from the kitchen, “I’m so sorry, but we open at 9 AM, we’re still setting u--” She paused, her hand reached up to cover her mouth as her eyes went wide. “_C’est pas vrai! _ Adrien Agreste?”

That was when it clicked, “Madame Dupain-Cheng?” He was just as surprised, and a wave of memories hit him as hard as he wanted to slap himself for forgetting such an important place, and he wondered for a moment how he was supposed to mention that he forgot about the location of their bakery and wandered in without it being awkward. He decided to shelve that for a different time, “I just moved in down the street. I’m sure you’ve seen the news?”

“Of course, of course, Marinette’s been watching it all day these days! She’s very excited to meet you today.” Sabine smiled as she recovered from her surprise. The boy looked like he was having a rough morning, and she could only imagine the pressure he must have been under all weekend while the media tracked his every movement. Their home was often a place of refuge for Adrien, and she was more than happy to supply that even now. “Let me get you some pastries. I remember you used to love our pain au chocolat and croissants. Oh, time passes so quickly doesn’t it?” She quickly went to the back of the shop to retrieve them.

_Marinette_. Adrien smiled as he remembered how fond he was of her. Her, Alya, and Nino were his favorite people before college, but then they were split up, going on each of their separate paths. The memories of his lonely college nights came back to mind, when he couldn’t find someone who treated him like anyone else. Everyone was looking for connections, and his was one of the strongest by far. After failing in finding anyone willing to be just friends with him, he secluded himself to his dorm. Successful in his studies, but unable to make time for friends. That’s what they labeled him as. _What was I doing then when I had friends at home? Why didn’t I think about reaching out? _It was because he wanted to be _independent._ It was because he wanted to succeed alone, to prove that he didn’t need to be locked in a room to remain safe and productive. He didn’t realize at the time that he had constructed his own prison while trying to escape his father’s. Adrien made a mental note to reach out to his old friend soon.

Snapping back to reality, he realized that he was standing there blankly as Sabine returned with a bag of pastries. By the time he tried to politely refuse, she had already put it into his hands. “You look thin, Adrien. Is something bothering you?” 

He instinctively frowned before quickly turning it into a smile, “I’m just thinking about old memories is all. Time really does go by fast.”

She knew him well enough to know it wasn’t just that, but she didn’t want to prod, “Have you ever heard the proverb: 一寸光阴一寸金，寸金难买寸光阴?”

“An inch of time is an inch of gold, but an inch of gold cannot buy an inch of time?”

“Yes, exactly.” Sabine smiled and patted his hand. “There’s no point in dwelling on time that’s lost, it isn’t like gold that you can find again. What’s important is that you savor the gold that’s in front of you right now before it slips away.”

Adrien bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to hide his emotions, nodding to show that he agreed. “You always know me too well, Madame. 谢谢.”

“There’s no need to thank me, Adrien. I’m just glad I was able to see you in person after all these years.” She let go of his hand. “But you need to head off to work don’t you? You’ll be late! I’m sure Marinette’s already at the station, but maybe you can catch up to her before the next tr--”

“W-wait, Marinette is at the station?” Come to think of it, he cursed himself as he realized he’d forgotten that Marinette was now working in his father’s company.

Sabine looked at the clock, “She might already be gone by now, but there’s a chance that she might still be there.” 

_ Time was golden, and he didn’t want to lose a second. _“Then I’ll be heading out right away. Thank you again!” He ran out without a thought.

“Come back soon! You’re always welcome here!” Sabine called after him as the door closed, holding her hands in front of her chest. She, in a sense, believed in _ yuanfen _ (缘分), that relationships in past lives carried over into the current one: best friends could have been lovers and mother and daughter could have been siblings. The threads of fate wound tight around Marinette and Adrien, and she didn’t think that it was pure coincidence that he walked into the bakery that morning. Destiny had a plan.

She hummed a tune to herself while flipping the sign on the door to “_Open_.” Looking out the window, she wondered if he’d be able to catch up to her, but if they really were bound by _ yuanfen_, then he surely would. It was meant to be.

* * *

“You barely even remembered her, Adrien. What’s the point of chasing after her now?” 

“I have to at least try, Plagg.”

Plagg was getting a bit motion-sick from his seat in Adrien’s shirt pocket, but he was trying his best to be patient. The kid was clearly distressed. Humans… No, _ Chat Noirs _ always had a tendency to be this way. _ The loyalty _. He never really understood why, but when he looked at Adrien, he could see how determined he was to get there. He didn’t want to put a damper on his flame.

He made it to the station and ran down the stairs, looking over heads and looking for her while ignoring the phones being pulled out of bags for pictures. His eyes locked onto someone who looked familiar, but he wasn’t able to see her face. It looked like she was mouthing something to herself and was about to step onto the train, but Adrien decided to take a chance.

“Hey!!! Wait!!!”

She turned, looking startled, but he knew without a doubt that it was her. A smile crossed his face as he skidded to a halt, realizing the train she was about to board just left them both behind. A blush formed on his cheeks as he noticed the people turning their heads to watch what was happening, so he kept his voice a little lower. Or, at least he tried.

“A--A-Adrien?!?”

“M-Marinette! Y-yeah! It’s me!”

“Where did y-- Wha-- Who- Adrien?? You’re here?? Why are you here?! I mean, I’m glad you’re here! I mean, not _ that _ glad, that’s a weird word, but glad… _ glad to see you! _”

He laughed, “Sorry, I must’ve surprised you. It’s just your mom was saying that you were on your way to work an--”

“Wait… _ my mom _?”

“Yeah! I made a visit to the bakery just a second ago and then ran over here!”

"You…" Her voice trailed off.

_ Adrien ran over to see her?! _ Marinette blinked and tried to refocus, assessing the situation one more time. Now that she was past the initial surprise of Adrien's sudden appearance, she noticed that Adrien looked different. She brought up the picture that she saw of him over the weekend to compare. He didn't look any taller, still standing at about six feet, but he looked _ bigger _ . _ Maybe he'd been working out over the past years? _ She shoved the thought away before letting it dwell. Her attention shifted to his hair and his clothes, and she couldn't help but crack an internal laugh at how disheveled he looked. Except the laughter wasn’t actually internal.

"You look like a mess." Her eyes went wide and she immediately covered her mouth. "Did I say _ mess?? _ I meant that you look…. like the _ best!! _... the be--"

"Yeah, I am a bit of a mess." He was still smiling, which was a good sign. "Now that I don't have a personal stylist, I have to learn to do things on my own." He pointed at all the wrinkles on his shirt. "Know how to iron by any chance?"

Marinette stared at him helplessly. Her perfect image of Adrien was tarnished by the time they graduated high school. She _ knew _ Adrien didn't have a talent for… certain practical tasks, but she smiled as she remembered how he would come to his friends for help, and they'd all come together to teach him how to be a regular high schooler. You know, without the rich controlling parents and the media attention. This was a new low though. If he walked into the office looking like _ that _, she imagined Manager Rey would throw a fit or pass out, maybe both.

"I do." She smirked and pointed at various points of improvement on his outfit. "And I also know how to style hair and tie a tie."

Adrien's expression brightened even more than before, "Would you mind helping me then?... For old time's sake?"

The next train arrived. "Let's get on this train first, we're already late. We'll head into the office, and then I'll see what I can do."

"You're a lifesaver, Marinette!"

She smiled back at him as they boarded the train. They had a lot of catching up to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some of my inspo for this chapter:  
\- Real life struggles of how to tie a tie. Why is it so hard??  
\- Did you know that Louis XIII was the first person to tie fabric around his neck and call it a fashion statement? Ties in the 17th Century were used to keep your robes from falling down. Glad it isn't that way now, but they're still a pain. He was also responsible for wigs, apparently. A fashion icon?  
\- A real Airbnb posting in Paris. $88 a night, pretty good deal if you ask me.  
\- "괜찮아도 괜찮아 (That's Okay)" by D.O. -- Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D8dv18lD02c (( ironically turn on English CC for more accurate translated lyrics )) -- This song has been with me since Chapter 1, and it's my inspo for the series as a whole. Give it a listen! It's a good song.
> 
> Another thing! @15megapixels-mlb on Tumblr drew some really awesome art for Chapter 1 that's a continuation (with some added writing) for how they thought Chapter 2 would play out. Link: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/15megapixels-mlb/187018080649
> 
> Thank you all again for reading this fic! I expect the next chapters will have a bit more action/a bit more main plot because the first two chapters were intended to be exposition chapters, giving background and explaining some things. So stay tuned!


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